R's rue

 The Ghost stories of followers have yet again proved more interesting than my original post. I’ve read most at lunchtime at work and shared some with my workmates who found them highly entertaining . I finished work at 8 pm  When I’m on day shifts I don’t get home much before a quarter to nine. By the time I’ve collected the dogs from Trendy Carol, fed and walked them, fuelled Albert and lit the fire, I don’t get to sit down until 9.30pm or so.  It was a bit after that tonight because Dorothy didn’t want to leave the warmth of Trendy Carol’s trendy sofa. That upset me As I sat down my phone beeped cheerfully  It was a co worker from today  She is my age  The message simply read “ I’ve found my first bunion, I’ve ran out of Bacardi  and my bra is now a dirty grey...I’m too old for this shit!” from Going Gently https://ift.tt/2MgbnGj

Shirley and I spent yesterday afternoon in The Palace of Princess Phoebe where she is attended to by her two slaves. Not quite two weeks old, Princess Phoebe's life chiefly involves three activities - the consumption of mother's milk, the filling of nappies and sleeping like a baby. Yesterday her grandfather - King Pudding de Yorkshire - sang her songs and she was bemused, lying in his arms as the vibrations of his tuneful singing were absorbed by her rib cage. She looked up with her bright blue eyes wondering, "Who is this man?" and "Can I make him a slave too?" How heart-warming it is to observe our lovely daughter Frances taking to the role of motherhood like a duck to water.  She is so patient and so loving. In spite of her tiredness there is a beatific aura about her. After all, she has been the engine of an ongoing miracle. When we got home there was a mysterious Amazon package lying on our doormat. It was addressed to Phoebe Pudding so I guessed ...